


Wings of Wrath Prologue

by BlueAngel325



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueAngel325/pseuds/BlueAngel325
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a preiof my novel that I'm trying to get published, it features dragons, swords, magic, and a fantasy world. I apologize for any typos or poor sentence this is extremely rough</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings of Wrath Prologue

1\. THE VISION

He dreamt of fire. He dreamt of rocks. He dreamt of an eye. Haunting him every night, the eye watched him. This was no normal eye: it surged with violent rage, flames sputtered from the demonic iris, but beneath that were fields of emeralds, an eyebrow of thorns accompanied it. Both he and the eye rested in a cave.  
The boy wanted to run, he wanted to shiver, he wanted to escape and he wanted this eye to leave, but the boy couldn’t move. So it continued to haunt him; the grey, ashen rocky skin around it didn’t move, and aside from the slight flickers from the gash-like pupil, neither did the eye. The place smelled of burnt meat and smoke as steam bellowed from the cave’s teeth; the hot air tickled his face. Yet today was different: the eye blinked. Blinking, although seemingly insignificant, was progress to this peasant boy; perhaps next his nightmares would cease? He saw his cowardly reflection in the iris; he was twelve, his meek figure was common of the Shaddi, a race that predated humans. At first glance, a Shaddi appeared human, but up close their eyes gave them away; burst of white light and long loops of magical energy coursed inside of them.  
He was a slave; sold away by his stepmother when his real father died because he didn’t fit into her life, so a knight named Galahad took him in and used him for harsh labor. As he stared into the alien pupil, the eye transformed into a strange image of an ocean, two giant spikes made of rock appeared out of nowhere as the image rushed towards him. The boy shielded his eyes as it came towards him then-  
  
“Get up boy!” Galahad shouted, kicking him in his side.  
Arrow, the boy, let out a low grunt and whimpered as Galahad threw him upright. Galahad beamed him with his piercing dark eyes and scarred face; he had claw marks on his face from a blow by a Dragon. Galahad always wore a helm made out of the hide of the first Dragon he killed, large horns coiled form the sides of his helm and down in front of his face. He had the reach and stature of a bear.  
“What time is it?”  
“It’s almost dawn Arrow.”  
“Stru Ses Draco Iraticus?” Arrow muttered  
“Yes we’re off to kill the Earth Dragon today.” Galahad smirked “Your Skillentian is getting better. But you’re still terrible. Now get up. Argos needs a new axe since his was chipped during our last battle.”  
“You want me to fetch an axe sir?”  
“Well either that or would you rather I use you as fodder for that beast?”  
“Yer.” He growled getting up  
“You know that means yes right?”  
“Oh sorry.”  
Galahad left the tent, “Why do I bother?”  
He exited the tent, and the townsfolk gave him hateful glances; they scowled at the boy. Arrow gazed up at the vile peaks where the Dragon, Vorador, awaited but, he found no signs of him. Out of curiosity, he looked up to the sky, but found nothing.  
The creature’s senseless destruction from the previous night was still evident; claw marks branded several buildings, and entrails from ingested cattle remained on the paved roads. Several of the monks gave their respect to their gods, while others cursed Galahad’s company for aggravating Vorador. The further he went, the more the humans despised him, and their harsh glares froze him worse than the cold, but he was used to it, he got it wherever he went. Arrow felt a harsh push from behind him. He spun around to be faced by a pudgy man who smelled of mead.  
“Damn Shaddi scum! Get your ass over to the slave district!” He growled, flinging snow from his untidy beard.  
Arrow felt his fist ball, but he realized the size of his opponent. Then he noticed the dagger on his hilt and realized he couldn’t win.  
“Move!” The man threatened, shoving him again.  
Arrow felt his fist uncoil, so he turned to leave with his head down. The man watched him leave and scowling at him. As he fled, he felt a cold breeze penetrate his tattered, thin, and worn clothes, making his teeth chatter, a sense of dread overcame him.  
Arrow gazed at the petrified people still hanging in the roads, some of them in mid charge, and others fleeing the battle. Rather than spewing flames at their enemies, Earth Dragons froze them with petrifying breath. Vorador’s breath turned many of the wooden houses to stone; the Dragon didn’t spare anyone or anything that dare crossed him. Arrow froze as he glanced at a petrified man with an atrocious glower and a young boy cradled in his hand. Arrow thought about his own father, he was a tall lean man with the same eyes. His hair was white and thick, almost like curly sheep wool; Arrow couldn’t help but feel like his father would do the same as the frozen man to protect him from Vorador. After reflecting for a few minutes, he kept moving through the destroyed streets. Arrow passed by a tavern with a fractured right wall as the owner swept chunks of wood and glass off the streets. Arrow felt a touch on his shoulder jumped his heart raced as he spun to see.  
“If I were you I would take one of those knives and drive it through Vorador myself.” The mangy cat, Ma’ayat chuckled as Arrow calmed down.  
Ma’ayat was covered in untidy, shadowy fur, and her eyes were white like fresh snow. She and the boy were tied together, not as mutual friends, but as pet and owner: Arrow was the pet, and Ma’ayat the owner, for she determined what Arrow did, brought him food when he couldn’t afford it, and also threatened him, with spells and curses that caused muscle cramps. But, when feeling rather malicious, she would turn him into a rat.  
“It’s very degrading to take orders from a cat.” He groaned as she pawed his bristly hair.  
“You humans and Shaddi assume your superiority yet if all the creatures in the land rallied against you, you would fall.” Ma’ayat grumbled licking herself.  
“And you cats don’t?” He replied jabbing at her ribs with his finger. She is a bit of a hypocrite.  
“Don’t forget, you would have died without my help. I do what you cannot.” She said with an underlying growl.  
“I am grateful for that, but…  
“Ah, so you wish to stand on your own two feet, is that it?” Ma’ayat watched him attentively as she licked her paws and smacked him with her tail.  
“Yes I do.” He grumbled.  
“Such a shame, I enjoyed the idea of having a pet,” she purred. Climbing off his shoulder, she began running around his leg.  
“Hey, I am not a pet!” He bristled while moving his foot to prod her side.  
“Oh really?” She asked as she sidestepped his bare foot and clawed at it.  
“Yes really!” Ma’ayat’s razor-sharp claws made his foot burn.  
Then she spoke his true name aloud, she summed up all of his experiences from his origins to his personality, leaving him rigid and frozen with sweat erupting from his pours.  
“Remind me to curse the day you learned my true name!” He sourly griped while twitching.  
“You already did Arrow several times.” She reminded with a mocking grin, “But ask yourself, where would you be if I hadn’t forced you to dive for that shield during the battle in Velis?”  
Arrow scowled at the black cat; if she couldn’t kill him whenever she wanted, he would have kicked her. Ma’ayat vanished into the streets as she always did, with a burst of ebony smoke. Arrow didn’t know how she always followed him; she always vanished and reappeared near him some time later. Sitting by a wall and checking his bare feet, Arrow couldn’t help but wonder why the cat kept him around to begin with. While finishing with the bandages, Arrow looked to his right at a –  
-a broken shoe slammed into his face, knocking him to the ground. Arrow clutched his nose in pain as he struggled to look up at the attacker,  
“Boy, get me an axe!” Argos suddenly shouted from his tent.  
“Y-Yes sir.” Arrow quivered before getting to his feet.  
Running to the armory, Arrow grabbed the finest axe he could find, but the immense weight sent him to his knees and he struggled to lift the large weapon, so he eventually settled on dragging it back to the tent. As he reached the tent, Arrow’s stomach growled at him, choosing to ignore it, Arrow entered the tent. Argos towered over people like an oak tree; he certainly was just as wide and looked as if he could rip that tree in half with one hand. His walk made the ground shake. He didn’t have any hair, his eyes were a brown color, his beard hung from his face like an infant’s bib, and his right eyebrow had a massive gap from an old injury. Argos meticulously inspected the axe and then looked back at Arrow.  
“Took you long enough.” Argos grunted revealing his brass teeth.  
The axe itself was longer than the man’s arm the blade gleamed with the brilliance of diamonds but it looked as if it could slice a brick wall in half. Argos’ eyes scanned over it, with a smirk written across his face.  
“Not bad… you have an eye for weapons.” He grumbled as he sat the blade in his lap.  
“Th-thank you.”  
“Now if only you could use them.”  
The words stung at him but it was true: he was too cowardly for weapons, aside from a fishing knife. Arrow cursed at himself for his weakness; ever since he was little, the other kids always beat him in fights and everyday his mother would treat whatever bruises or scratches he had.  
“Will that be all sir?” Arrow asked  
“You are dismissed.” Argos grumbled as he grabbed oil to polish the axe.  
He turned to leave when Ma’ayat stopped him her mangy face contorted into a strange smile. “What do you want kitty?” He grumbled back  
“Oh that’s very funny.” She said with a scowl. “You’ll be happy to know that Galahad’s planning on fighting Vorador after his men are fed. If I were you, I’d go grab something to eat.” She smirked, “But then again, you want to stand on your own two feet so you don’t need my help and it is your choice.” Mockingly, she turned away from him.  
“Ma’ayat wait!” the cat paused as Arrow called to her “…Thank you for saving me back there and for keeping me alive.”  
“You Shaddi are all the same, grateful to people even when they they’re ungrateful of you.”  
“Why would you be grateful of me?” Arrow asked  
“You helped me remember when I was sick and you could have bolted, gone away, but you stayed allowing yourself to be captured and taken to your stepmother instead of saving your own neck.”  
“I honestly forgot about that day.” He said as he started recalling what happened,  
He and the cat raced through the stormy city streets as thunder and lightning roared overhead; the rain made the cobblestones slippery for the two of them as they kept running. The city was made of dark grey colored bricks, but at night they appeared black. Arrow panted as they ducked through the narrow alleyways, hiding from the guards. Ma’ayat had a wound in her leg from a spear, one of the guards pursuing them tossed to stop Arrow; the spear made Ma’ayat limp slightly behind.  
Cracking her back loudly, Ma’ayat snapped Arrow back to the present. He glared at her for a few seconds and then he chose to speak.  
“I don’t know why I helped you.” He looked away from her as she finished her stretching.  
“It’s funny how I return the favor by damning you to slavery.”  
“Are you being sympathetic?” He teased.  
“Yes, and I hope you were paying attention for I shall not be doing that again.” She laughed.  
“I see.”  
He found food his own way by going to a bakery, as he could feel Ma’ayat testing and watching him, although she remained unseen. The bakery charged him extra for his bread, because of his race. Humans didn’t trust them and like all things they fear they destroy them or enslave them, the Shaddi were no different. The baker scowled at him and gave him the oldest piece of bread he could find and charged Arrow like it was fresh bread.  
As he reluctantly took his bread and quickly left, Ma’ayat finally reappeared at his tent on his pile of books. “What, come to make more fun of me?” He muttered curtly, while walking past her.  
“No I’m just watching something.” Indifferently, she began to lick herself.  
“Watching what?” Arrow asked.  
“Oh, I’ll let you know when I see it.”  
“I don’t like these games you play.”  
“Well get used to them you’ll have to deal with a bunch of them of you want to be stronger. Speaking of a game, do you know how the turtle beat the rabbit back in those old books you read? The turtle cheated.”  
“What are you trying to say?”  
“Think how it would apply to Vorador.” With a sinister smile she exploded into a plume of smoke.  
The sea of blackness took on many shapes before exiting his tent. He watched the cloud leave, but then he felt a random thought of agitation enter his mind: it wasn’t his own. Arrow couldn’t move as the world became a black abyss. Arrow’s palms shook as he tried to move.  
Arrow could see something stirring in the darkness before him; a low growl emanated from the blackness, as it grew in intensity, Arrow could now see what stood before him: Vorador.  
Arrow closed his eyes as he felt an enormous claw reaching for him. This isn’t real this isn’t real! Arrow thought over and over again as he tried to steady his trembling hands he dared not to look at the beast. He felt something cold touch his forehead, making him fall to the ground, when Arrow looked up, he found himself back in his tent.  
The Shaddi had the ability to see into the minds of others, but others could see into theirs too. It took him a while to recover from Vorador’s intrusion. Eventually, he found the strength to get to his feet.  
“Come on boy!” Galahad shouted from outside before tossing a cloak at his face.  
He then held up his alien looking blade, instead of one massive blade like a broadsword, it had two jagged blades with barely a hair of space in between them; this sword had been in Galahad’s family for centuries.  
“It is time for us to kill this accursed beast and move on.” Galahad tightened the grip on his blade.  
Galahad’s eye traced the bandage on his right arm and he thought about last night. The chilling air haunted him and stung at his skin like a swarm of hornets as he sat outside of his tent, with his beloved sword in his hand. Wearing a cloak, he faced the northern wall as the majestic shadow of the mountain loomed over him ominously.  
“A fine night for some mead eh?” Argos said while exiting his of his tent with a flask in his right hand.  
“Only you would drink before taking on a Dragon.” Galahad grumbled curtly.  
Argos smirked and sat beside his old friend on the rough snowy ground. While talking with Argos, Galahad glanced back at the two dozen soldiers supporting them, but all of them were untrained and unskilled volunteers. Galahad grimaced.  
“Many of them will be killed.” He said sourly.  
“Aye, but they’ll die as heroes.” Argos smiled before taking a sip of his mead.  
“I suppose. Is that your recipe?”  
“Aye the good stuff.” Argos announced proudly as he offered Galahad the skin.  
The alcohol warmed Galahad slightly as he glared at the horizon; even with the torches lit, he found it impossible to see beyond the walls of the town.  
The sound of Arrow’s feet crunching the snow disrupted his thoughts.  
“You move like an old woman without her cane.” Galahad complained sourly “As I said we’re off to kill the Dragon where it sleeps.” A terrible thought crept over Arrow. “You better get ready after all you’re the bait.” Galahad said.  
Arrow grimaced, because Galahad knew of his ability to see into the minds of others, Galahad often used him for bait. When they reached the center of the tents, Argos and two other men dressed in rugged brown armor with weapons on their backs stood in a circle.  
“Vorador has killed dozens of Dragon hunters over the years. He knows just about every trick there is.”  
“He does?” Arrow asked.  
“Of course he does.” Galahad replied scowling at the boy. “The older they get the more powerful they become and the larger they grow.”  
“So they never stop growing?”  
“Dragons don’t age as fast as we do. In fact, there hasn’t been anyone alive to chart a Dragon’s life cycle. For all we know they could live forever.”  
Arrow shivered at the thought they could survive for so long, “H-How old did you say Vorador was?”  
“Vorador was first seen around a thousand years ago.”  
“S-so he’s at least a thousand!” Arrow asked his voice quivered as it did.  
“Man up boy there’s no time for fear in combat! Regardless of how old this tyrant is he will get a short end by our blades!” Galahad shouted while pointing his blade at the mountain.  
As they left the city, the temperature dropped dramatically and fresh snow caked the rocks, but Galahad and his men were well protected. Arrow however, suffered in his tattered sweater and ruined blue shirt, and his thin pants did little to shield him from the cold, the permafrost stung at his feet. With nothing better to do, Arrow linked his mind to the local wildlife. His mind became theirs; he was with a fox when it took down a mountain goat, he was a Tundra Eagle soaring overhead, and he became the rabbits scurrying about in the snow.  
The sight of the ominous mountain broke his link to the animals, as he glanced at stone tower bigger than anything a human could dream to produce; a sense of dread overcame him. He spotted several stone pillars protruding from the edge of the mountain path. As the feelings of dread passed over him, Arrow let his mind drift to Ma’ayat.  
  
“Come Arrow, they’ll find us soon!” The black cat called, she continued to limp through the sullied alley with the boy following.  
The cat, feeling weak and tired, panted heavily as the wound refused to stop bleeding, pus started oozing from it. Arrow asked, on several occasions each with increasing worry, if she wanted to stop, but she shook her head and kept going. As they passed under a stone arch, the two of them decided to rest for the evening.  
“Ma’ayat, are you sure you’ll be fine?” Arrow asked while wringing his wet clothes.  
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.” She replied weakly as she sat by him. “Worry about yourself. After all, it is you they want.”  
Arrow rubbed the cat’s fur gently, at first he feared she would hiss at him, but she didn’t.  
“I can’t be sold into slavery. How could she do such a thing!?” Arrow growled.  
“You people do all sorts of stupid and strange things the rest of us cannot grasp or fathom.” Ma’ayat said with a harsh cough Arrow looked at her nervously.  
“You’re sick aren’t you?”  
“What?” Ma’ayat grumbled in protest.  
“You’re sick, I can tell. You can’t keep this up in your condition,” Arrow explained as he reached for her injured leg. Ma’ayat hissed at him furiously, yet the boy ignored her. “I can fix the wound but you need medicine.” Arrow whispered back.  
He put his right hand on her wounded leg and muttered something under his breath the cat watched as his fingertips glowed, with a strange red pulse, Ma’ayat’s leg reacted to it, she watched slack-jawed as the wound mended and the gap narrowed.  
“I know where we can get medicine,” Arrow smiled. “I’ll go and get some you just wait here.”  
“Why are you helping me?” She asked.  
“Because you helped me.” Their eyes met briefly, and then Arrow left Ma’ayat.  
Running through the rain, Arrow ran towards the only place carrying the medicine however as he ran around a manure caked building, he spotted a pair of guards in onyx armor. They had large shields with golden lions engraved in the centers. Arrow quickly hugged the wall, hoping the two guards didn’t notice him; he peeked around the corner and eavesdropped on their conversation.  
“Only the daft would be out in a hellish storm like this,” the first one said with a sly grin.  
“This kid is daft,” the second guard said in agreement “Running from Lady Parish? Please. Any right minded fellow with eyes would be running towards her.”  
“Agreed. Why do we always get the worst jobs?”  
Arrow could hear the grinding of their boots and the clanging of their armor. He knew only one spell that could help him here. With a whisper his form changed, and he writhed around, not expecting to be this small or wretched; the spell had inadvertently turned him into a spider. Arrow swore as the raindrops pounded the spider’s feeble body; despite the bombardment, he scurried across the slippery streets. Even though the spell had backfired, the guards didn’t notice him, as he crawled between them and then he found the small quaint shop. After finding a corner to transform, he then purchased the medicine with the little money he had.  
Now he just had to find another way back. It wasn’t easy but he managed to find a way out the shop without being detected, there he found Ma’ayat still waiting for him. She gratefully drank the medicine as they waited out the storm then Arrow drifted off to sleep and Ma’ayat slept in his lap. Yet when the storm passed, Arrow awoke bound and gagged on the back of a wagon with Ma’ayat in his lap.  
  
“How much farther!? I need to get my blood flowing!” Janos called after two hours of hiking.  
“Stop your complaining we are almost there.” Galahad replied.  
The air had grown thinner and the temperature continued its plummet, but Galahad wouldn’t relent his anger and hatred of the Dragons was so intense it could burn a hole in the earth. He walked with a furious gait and stomped across the frozen land as they neared the mountains’ summit, Galahad’s thoughts drifted back to the previous night.  
  
He sat with Argos and listened out for the Dragon while the “soldiers” either paced back and forth or prayed nervously to themselves; Galahad glanced over them, some barely old enough to declare themselves men. He considered saying something to them but he couldn’t find the right words. No need for words, I speak with my sword, his father’s voice rang in his mind. Allowing himself to think of his father only strengthened his resolve to kill every last one of those damned reptiles.  
“Why does the Dragon not come?” One of the soldiers asked.  
“Patience. It will come,” Another one stated he was hooded and he carried a bow on his back and was incredibly lean.  
Too lean to be in a serious fight, Galahad thought. He felt the need to investigate this.  
“Shouldn’t you be up with the other archers?” Galahad called to the man. After receiving no response he walked towards the “soldier”.  
Without warning, the man drew a curved sword and angled it at Galahad’s throat it glistened like the pale moon.  
“I am more skilled with a blade than one might think, fancy a demonstration?” The man asked, before removing his hood.  
His golden braided hair went past his shoulders the man had a striking face his eyes were a bright green and seemed to glow in the night. Gently gripping the ornate sword with his gauntlet, Galahad inspected it.  
“What is your name?”  
“Janos.” The man said as Galahad released the blade and Janos tucked his weapon away.  
“You’re quick.”  
“Thank you sir.”  
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Galahad grumbled, he drew his sword and angled the dual blades at the man’s throat. “Against a Dragon, speed with a weapon will not get you far. Their scales are harder than any armor or chainmail I’ve ever seen unless your weapon carries actual weight or magical properties you won’t scratch it.” Galahad said firmly, the he lowered his sword.  
“I will keep that in mind.” Janos replied haughtily, while casting a harsh glare towards Galahad.  
“Good. I would hate for you to end up dead,” Galahad replied.  
A loud bellow disrupted their conversation.  
“Ready your weapons!” Argos shouted.  
Everyone brace themselves for battle. Ten seconds went by. Where in hell is it? Galahad thought Twelve seconds went by. They heard the beat of its wings. Where is that sound coming from? It’s not coming from the direction of the mountain.  
“Dragon!” Someone roared from Galahad’s left he spun around to see, but he could only make out a shadow and a torch.  
“Here he comes!” Argos shouted “Brace yourselves lads!”  
Flames shot up all around them; they used that to gauge its location. The runners made it pass the houses, screams and panicked shrieks could be heard along with the Dragon’s footsteps.  
“Come on, you son of a bitch!” Galahad roared.  
The archers did their job, drawing the beast’s ire. Galahad tightened his grip: he was near. Galahad looked up at the archers on the towers waiting to spring the trap with the harpoons in position. Then the runner darted into the courtyard, holding his torch in one hand and crossbow in the other.  
A tremendous bellow erupted from whence the runner came, followed by the gleaming fangs of the Great Dragon. It stepped into the courtyard masked in the night.  
“Now Arrow!” Galahad shouted firmly.  
Flames shot up, blocking one of the escape routes. Arrow ran with a torch to the other exits and blocked them with more fire.  
“Fire!” Argos shouted.  
A chorus of arrows rained on the Dragon, breaking aside the scaled flesh. With a fierce cry and a thunderous boom, one of the towers collapsed, splinters and rock rained down on them.  
“Harpoons fire!” Galahad shouted at the top of his lungs.  
He could only see the glint of the harpoons, but the roars from the creature told him they were hurting him. The Dragon furiously yanked at the chains, howling and bellowing with rage.  
“Now men, attack it!” Argos commanded.  
Galahad and his men charged forward. Janos, with a torch in his right hand for visibility, fought beside Galahad. Petrifying several soldiers right away, the Dragon used its claws to rake and maul the rest.  
Despite their efforts, most of their attacks harmlessly bounced off the diamond-hard scales. As the Dragon furiously tugged at the harpoons, Galahad looked up. The towers shook along with the Dragon.  
With a fierce cry; Galahad swung his blade, blood gushed out from the wound, bathing him and Argos. The Dragon shrieked in response; Galahad readied a second strike, however it struck him with its mighty tail. Galahad crashed into a wooden table on the other side of the street.  
“Galahad!?” Janos called turning back to him.  
Suddenly, a blast of air battered them. The Dragon was attempting to take flight! Then, with a loud roar the towers tethering the beast crashed, crushing several of the fleeing men in the process. White dust and shards of ice caked what remained as the structures fell. When sure the Dragon was gone, Janos sprinted over to a wounded Galahad.  
“I am alright!” He grunted as Janos pulled him up.  
“Now what do we do?” Argos asked, dumbstruck like the rest of them.  
“I’ve never seen a beast this strong,” Galahad admitted “But we will defeat it.”  
“You’re lucky to be alive, Dragon-Slayer,” Janos pointed out.


End file.
